"She crushed your hand?" I stare at your hands, but you hold your knife and fork easily, maybe elves recover quicker than the rest of us.

"You helped your boss with her new baby. What exactly are you? A secretary, personal assistant, nanny? I've just realized I don't know what it is you do back home."

"Are you sure your hand is okay?" I reach to take it, holding it carefully, then realizing I have no idea which hand was injured. I suppose I have a 50/50 chance of having guessed correctly.